Good Luck Has Its Storms
by sincerely- scripted
Summary: Series of short AU one-shots. Chapter Three: The Detective: Angelo and Whitman have been working cases together for a long time now. When one partner becomes suspicious of another's personal life revelations are made.
1. The Diner

_Considering doing this AU theme. Here is one i tested out. Not sure yet if it will continue._

_Any-who, here is Willa working in a 24 hour diner._

_Enjoy!_

Stating the night as dim and foggy is a bit cliché, but Isabella Angelo was struggling for words to describe her dismal situation. She stood on the kitchen side of the red laminate counter fixing her hair in the reflection off her computer screen. It was a slow night at the diner, but then again it was always slow when you worked the night-shift at a rundown diner in the middle of nowhere Florida.

As a aspiring playwright, the nights gave her added hours of work time. The owners were nice enough to let the college graduate work double duty at the cash register as long as she kept the business in check. The downside was that the dark outdoor surroundings combined with the bright fluorescents offered zero inspiration.

The sounding of the doorjamb bell made Isabella jump. She looked up to find a boy stumbling through soaked to the bone. Ripping off the hood to his jacket, she saw a burst of red hair. Shaking off the water, he caught her eyes.

"You guys have hot coffee here?" he grumbled.

Isabella set off to find the grouch a mug.

Hanging up his coat, the man sat down at the counter and put his head between his hands, nodding to the television hanging in the corner. "Ugh, have they given an indication as to when the rain will end?" His slightly accented voice sounded strained and desperate.

"No," Isabella tried not to smile, despite the poor man's given status; his hair ran wildly around his head. She set the coffee down in front of him. "But I like to believe in wishful thinking."

After a few sips, she brought over the television remote, seeing as he was the only customer and offered him a gentle smile. "Don't bother to ask if you need anything else."

"It's three a.m. and my car ran out of gas in the middle of a thunderstorm. So unless you have a way for me to get home . . ."

Before the girl could catch her tongue, "I am not sure if you are a flirt or a pessimist. But either way, I am here until five-thirty." Her face twitched, she flattened her blue frock, and turned down to her writing once more.

"So, how many coffees can I order in two and a half hours without seeming like a total creep?" he muttered before picking up his mug and moving two seats closer to the cashier. "Is the atmosphere always so dreary in here?" he asked looking around.

"Ahh, yes, it is an exciting life I live," she replied sarcastically.

Strangely, he laughed. "There must be something exciting that you do then," he searched for her name tag, "Willa."

"I tell my life's story to strange men who walk into my place of work at odd hours of the morning."

"I understand. You must get a lot of creeps in here. But like I said, I am stuck until the rain stops." He shrugged. "There's no one else to talk to around here."

Willa poured more coffee into his mug. "And trying to pick up the waitress is what you decide to do with your free time?"

The boy stumbled over words to combat. "I … uh. .-um no, sorry."

Willa replied with a wink, "Just kidding."

Inspiration sure had a strange way of drowning her.


	2. The Tournament

The Tournament: Charlene, a soccer player, accidentally stumbles upon a recognizable face.

A request by PrincessWilla101 that was slightly altered. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

If Charlene had been paying attention, maybe she would have come off less rude. Doing warm-ups in ninety degree weather was somewhat cruel to begin with though and the campus Disney Sports complex was crowded.

Seeking refuge from the on forgiving sun, blonde haired Charlene strutted away from her soccer team to the shade of a near-by building wall. In the shadows she performed her lunges, her jacks, knee-ups, and stretches all while listening to her iPod and trying to relax. This was her first real tournament and though soccer was not her favorite of the sports her competitive nature was winning out.

Pacing and swinging her thin arms in circles turned out to be more problematic than it sounded.

At that very moment, a frail looking girl with short, wavy, deep brown hair rounded the corner. The items she was carrying soon ended scattered on the ground for Charlene nearly knocked her out.

"I am so sorry!" the blonde repeated frantically pulling out her headphones.

The brunette threw her hands out around her, trying to regain some balance. "No, no," she amended. "It's all right. The fault was mine." She knelt down to pick up her tossed belongings. "My mind was elsewhere. Wasn't paying attention."

The girl was familiar looking.

Charlene leaned over to help. She then noticed what all had scattered: dozens of arrows.

"Are you in the archery contest?"

The other girl lifted an eyebrow underneath the classic sixth grade bang haircut. "That obvious?" she asked sarcastically.

Laughing to hide the embarrassment, Charlene grabbed an arrow that was rolling away.

"My parents thought it may come in handy one day if I knew how to use a bow. Honestly, I think they are a bit crazy. But, you know . . . gotta listen to them."

"It's cool. Rare," the pair stood up. "I am not really a fan of soccer either. Actually hoping to leave at the end of the season and join the cheerleading or the gymnastics team."

"Well," said the girl as she settled the last few arrows into the holder in her arms. "I wish you luck then." She began to walk away.

"Wait!" The girl turned around. "Have we met before?" Charlene asked. "You just look very familiar."

In a small voice the girl answered, the box was riding the side of her school tee shirt up on the side, exposing skin. "Is that why you knocked me over?"

"No, no! Just . . ." she paused. "Did you audition for the Orlando theatre company production a few weeks ago? Is that where I saw you?"

"I did," she looked shocked. "Wow, you must have a good memory. Sorry, to say I didn't make it past the callback."

Charlene shrugged. "I didn't either." She smiled, "It's all right though, there will be more auditions. I'm Charlene."

She held out her hand. "Sorry," she nodded at the arrows, "forgot your hands were full."

The girl grinned. "Isabella, but everyone calls me Willa. "

"Huh, what a coincidence, meeting up here." She tilted her head. "Maybe we will see each other again, Willa."

"Good luck with your game," she turned to leave but caught herself. "Try not to hit anyone else, okay?"


	3. The Detective

Another AU for you. The Detective: Angelo and Whitman have been working cases together for a long time now. When one partner becomes suspicious of another's personal life revelations are made.

Not sure if i am liking where this one-shot went so please review. Also requests will always be taken. Feel free to message me.

Enjoy!

* * *

Detective Angelo glanced at her partner, "It's always nice to see a happy ending."

The crime had been wrapped up earlier that day. Detective Finn Whitman, the said partner, was walking back from the conference room where he had broken the news to the victim's family along with returning the poor girls belongings. The killer had been caught, and would be spending his life in jail like he so deserved.

Finn sauntered up, slacking shoulders, to his desk where he found his Partner had been looking on. Her shoulders were set and nose was upturned, obviously pleased with herself and the outcome, whilst twiddling some random black, remote like object she had found on his desk.

"I wouldn't call it happy," she replied, "but I think I could agree to relieving, yes."

Finn leaned on the side of his desk and smiled. "Yeah," he said, "you're right, Willa."

"As always," she added quickly.

Finn rolled his eyes, sighing. "We really have Dell to thank for the break though," he watched Willa's face carefully, using his interrogation face-reading skills to find information. "We would not have any leads without his handy computer skills."

Willa looked down at her fiddling hands, a small smile dying to break free. "He is pretty good isn't he?"

"Why don't you" he tilted his head towards the hallway that would lead her down to the I.T. section of the building, "go find him? He is hidden in that cave all day. I think he deserves to hear some good news rather than just do jobs for everyone. Plus," Finn shrugged, "he seems nervous around me when you aren't there. Not like his usual kind of weird and nervous self, like _really_ weird and offsetting."

The girl stood up and placed her hands on his forearms. With a nod she spoke, "How about both of us do, after we finish all this paperwork?" Willa took a step away and rounded the desk to her own just on the other side. "We are going to be here all night sifting through it."

"Nah, it's all right, you go talk to him," Finn waved her off trying to look stern as he sat down facing Willa.

"Amanda will never forgive me if you are late for date night again," she scolded. Willa reached across the desktops for the file only to have it snatched quickly back.

"And she will never forgive me if I don't let you go off with your boyfriend." Willa's eyebrows scrunched. She tilted her head and looked taken back. "If you are looking for where you messed up with _discreetness_," he smiled. "I can assure you the fault lies with Philby."

Willa drew herself in, leaning over the paper work. She drew a curious glance around the room filled with police officers before whispering, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't lie to me Willa," he laughed. "I have known for weeks now. The whole building has known he liked you since the first day you showed up. The poor man's just been stuck in that room the entire time. Ever notice how our cases got to his attention so fast" Willa shrunk back into her seat, eye's not revealing truth. "I am guessing something happened between you to after the Miller Bank case." The woman straightened up in her chair. "By the sudden movement, I take it I am right. I am going to try and believe that you would have told me eventually. Plus, Amanda made me promise that as soon as I found you out, the four of us would go to dinner."

Finns eyebrows rose and his lips formed that perfect smirk that they got when he knew he caught the criminal.

Willa placed both hands on the desk in front of her, "How'd you figure it out?"

"I told you," he crossed his arms over his chest and slouched back. "Dell is to blame."

"How?"

"Simple. He became anxious and fidgety around me, more than usual. Seemed to hang out outside The Cave more often, figured he was looking for you. Then there is the added bonus that I am a detective. I knew you were seeing someone, which was obvious. You came in nearly every morning with the smell of cologne on your jacket. You've taken to wearing a darker shade of lip stick and you have been leaving before I do at night, which means you have somewhere to be going or someone to meet. All the clues combined, and ta-da. . ."

Willa rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess the gig is up then."

Finn nodded.

"Are you going to gloat?"

"Nope," Finn smiled. He laid the file open in front of him and went to work on his computer. "You can run off now if you want."

"You know what," Willa stood. "I think I will take you up on that offer."

"See you in the morning, Wills."

* * *

Willa tried her best to look casual while walking down stairwell. The floor below hers held the I.T. Department also known as The Cave to those who worked in the building. No windows, just brick walls lining one large room. Upon entering is a gate like wall. Small wire squares that allowed you to see through, A security badge is needed to get all the way through this door. Willa scanned her ID tag. The blinking light changed from red to green and she was across.

Dell Philby could be described as an extreme neat freak. This floor was entirely his for the duration of the shift. Everything was in order. All papers, files, and useless belongings had their place. Four computers lined a singular wall length desk. Willa was unsure whether there was originally four workers down here or if the number held any significance but it was common that Dell would kneel on his swivel chair and race back and forth along the wall trying to complete eight tasks at a time. Usually it ended in him falling off, but his record shows just how great he was at his job.

The rest of the room contained rows of tables and files containing who-knows what; wires, electrical boards, weird metal sticks, you name it you could probably find it somewhere down there.

The red haired man did not look up as she entered, although the door let off the most awful set of squeals and clanks as she walked. He was working at one of the back tables, hunched over some sort of electrical panel.

Her heels clicked, he must of registered that someone was in there with him. She stood on the opposite side and leaned across the four foot counter, barely getting close to him but content none the less.

"I am not sure you have ever gone so long without asking a question about my work," Philby raised his gaze to meet her smiling.

"You looked too peaceful," Willa replied. 'I didn't want to bother you with questions."

He straightened up and began to round the side of the table. Willa moved as well, to meet him in the middle. "It wouldn't be you if you didn't have a question or two."

The corners of her mouth turned up. "Okay, well, how about," she grasped his hand, "'Are you almost ready to head out of here'?"

Willa tried not to laugh as Philby's face filled with concern and confusion, his forehead wrinkling to figure out what he missed. He pulled his hand slyly away from hers knowing full well that their relationship was to remain secret.

"Now, I don't mean this to be rude but," Dell looked around to the empty room. "Are you serious? About this? About us?"

"I work for the government in a role that teaches you not to trust people. They want you to double check and second guess all information to make sure that it is trustworthy. But you, Dell Philby, are the truest thing I have. You know that I love you and now . . . I think everyone else should know." At this point Willa was smiling like an idiot but she didn't let that stop her. "I want to be able to walk in and out of this building together and hold hands over coffee breaks. No more speculations."

Dell cocked his head to the right in disbelief. Struggling to find words, the man quickly cupped the sides of Willa's face and pressed his lips hard on hers. All he could think of was the day he met her.

After working in the IT department for over a year, Dell had learned many faces and names of the people he helped. When Finn walked down to the workshop with someone new, Philby was instantly curious.

Her hair was longer then, pulled back into a sleek pony tail. A button down shirt, dark pants, and heeled boots; she looked powerful, intimidating even for someone with such a small bone structure. The first thing she had ever said to him was a joke about his area calling it "the Bat Cave." The name stuck. But in those first moments, Philby was smitten.

Willa only had a moment to gasp before being cut off. It wasn't the reaction she had expected but the pleasure outweighed the shock. She could get used to this, she thought. Standing there, she waited patiently, holding her hands clasped behind her back and Dell bent his head down. Willa enjoyed every second of the kiss.

Philby hesitantly shifted away, moving his hands from the back of Willa's neck down to her shoulders and then trailed to her elbows; the slight whispers of his fingertips over the sleeves of her button down sent shivers up her spine.

"Okay, sorry," Dell whispered. He scrunched up his nose, "that was a bit impulsive."

Willa nodded reaching to hold his hands then slowly walking backwards toward the door, "yup."


End file.
